


A Practical Guide to Abby: Doing Right Wrong

by Not_A_Reptilian



Category: A Practical Guide to Evil - erraticerrata
Genre: Abby fails upwards, Gen, I don't know what to tag help, You expected a tag? Too bad! It was me Dio!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:34:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26653009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_A_Reptilian/pseuds/Not_A_Reptilian
Summary: What would have happened if instead of Black it was somebody else finding Cat after she pushed the Lone Swordsman off the wall in chapter 12? I don't know, but Abigail of Summerholm is sure to hate it.
Relationships: Abigail/Not Getting Murdered
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	1. I was hoping for a Cat, but I ended up getting Abby

**Author's Note:**

> Abby is a well loved character with a pretty unique and enjoyable personality and writing which I hope I caught. This is my first writing project that isn't an assignment so don't go expecting high quality stuff however, on the other hand I would appreciate criticism. Abuse will not be reported but it will be graded.

I flopped bonelessly to the ground, at the edge of unconsciousness. It was nice out. Cool and soothing, after all that time in the fire. I heard steps against the stone, calm and unhurried.

“Busy night?” someone murmured.

I opened my eyes and came face to face with glassy blue ones.

“I got stabbed,” I mumbled. “A lot.”

“Well my house is burning,” The curly haired girl slurred. “A lot.”  
  
  
  
  
  
Abigail screamed herself hoarse, it didn't make things any better but she did kind of need it. It wasn’t waking up with a splitting headache that caused it, that was an old friend. It wasn’t even waking up on the wrong side of the city walls, that was a new one but hell the night could have been worth it. Waking up with a sword? A goblin steel sword? No. Hells no. By the Gods Above and every angel no.

Even now a goblin’s face grinned at her from where the sword had landed, like it was mocking her for daring hope she wouldn’t ruin her own life on a night of drunken revelry. Was it revelry if you got violent instead of frisky? That was it wasn’t it? Those buzzkills took issue with her doing their job while drunk and were punishing her.  
  
“Well then I won’t kill villains ever again! HAH! How’d you like them apples now?!” She screamed to the skies, not like anyone answered.

She’d killed a villain last night. And not any villain: the Black damned Knight’s own little pet. She was doomed, so doomed, he’d take her entrails and use them to redecorate the palace in Laure. That’s not what entrails are for! She needed to get away.

That was it, plan time: going back to Summerholm was right out, it wasn’t like she had a home to go back to and she wouldn’t get a single step closer to the Black Knight than she absolutely needed to. Actually, leaving Callow entirely sounded like the safer bet. Say what you will about the praesi but they’re good at hunting people. East was out too, that way lay legions and Praesi madness. She’d stick out like a sore thumb in Daoine and she really didn’t want to try her luck in Mercantis.

It was gonna be Procer wasn’t it? She’d have to live her life surrounded those insufferable prince-botherers, maybe even learn the language. That wasn’t what a proper Sumerholm girl did, that was downright Ankouan. Although, she could maybe get herself some nice young Alamans lad. Yeah! The guys above owed her one anyway so maybe she’d cash-in there.

“What to do about you though?” She asked the face on a pommel. “I almost expected you to answer, that’d be my luck: getting stuck with some cursed praesi sword that can speak.”

She could sell it, there had to be a place for it somewhere and goblin steel should fetch a good price. Maybe even enough to pay for a way out. Had to be in Laure, all the shady types went there. How hard could it be to get in contact with the smugglers guild anyway?

“Onwards to Laure then!” She said as she pulled the sword from the ground. She was sure she would manage to hike a ride on some merchant’s cart and well she did feel particularly energetic and spry. She couldn’t complain about the headache going away either as she started walking towards the road to Laure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It came out shorter than I'd like but what can you do, so is life. I do intend to keep the naming scheme, Cat isn't alive to pun-ish me after all.


	2. Don't worry, be Abby

As a brewer’s daughter Abigail had spent much of her youth listening to travellers in a tavern and had, she thought, a pretty good idea of how she’d get to Laure. As she approached the city gates on the end of her 13th day of travel she could only muster one thought: “Those damned bastards lied to me!”

Oh sure, everyone was all smiles and laughs when they were drinking her mother’s beer but where was the nice merchant to help a lady in need on a dusty road eh? Nowhere! Nowhere is where they were! They all wanted payment! She wouldn’t need their help if she had money damn it! Well there was that one who’d offered on the second day but she was pretty sure he wanted another kind of payment. Ugh. Chivalry truly was dead, another thing to add to the Black Knights long list of murders.

While waiting on the line to the entrance Abigail was reminded that her feet hurt. So did her ankles and her calves, not to forget her lower back. Her everything hurt. This whole “walk for the entire day then sleep on the ground or on a pew” thing really wasn’t working out for her. The local village’s house of light might have been free and have dinner included but villages were not close enough for her to get to one every night and the morning sermons were just awful.

Especially that old sister at the first village, you’d think she wanted to recruit Abby with how insistent she was on offering assistance to those in need. Abby hadn’t even waited for breakfast there, a sister of the house was a sneaky being and she’d rather not find out what devious recruiting plan had been in motion. She had found a change of clothes and a burlap sack waiting for her though, so maybe the old fox was onto her and playing the long game.

The ork legionnaire was beckoning her over. Wait a second, legionnaire? Where was the city guard? Why were the legions manning the city gates? Where they looking for someone? They were looking for her weren’t they?

No wait that couldn’t be it, even if they were searching for the Squire’s killer she was sure nobody had seen them. They didn’t know what she looked like! Or that she even was a she! She was safe! Now feeling much more confident in her chances she approached.

“I’ll need your full name”

“Abigail of Summerholm” She answered, this was gonna be so easy.

“Where are you coming from?”

“Summerholm” She was going to pass right under their noses.

“Your reason for coming to Laure?”

“Squire burned my home and brewery down and I thought the House of Light charity would be better in Laure without all the other new homeless” And it was even true! The ork didn’t even bother looking back at her. Was villain caused arson a common enough issue in Praes that it didn’t even merit a response? She had this in the bag!

“Perfect then, I’m just gonna need you to show me your sack and you can be on your way. I’m sure if you ask someone they’ll point you out towards the cathedral”

Oh oh, her mind screeched to a halt. She had other things in the sack. She had one very stabby and absolutely forbidden thing in her sack! Oh gods she was in a Legion of Terror post with a goblin steel weapon! They were gonna eat her! And kill her! Maybe even in that order! No amount of money was worth this, she should have chucked the sword into the nearest river the moment she woke up. Misunderstanding her reaction the ork continued:

“I’m not going to loot you, I just need to look for contraband or my sergeant will have my ass”

That was a very nice sentiment but also just not what she needed to hear! Quick: an excuse, an escape plan. Something! Anything!

“Whose ass am I getting? I hope it’s not yours Nar, that thing’s the stuff of nightmares.” Oh things just kept getting better and better. Now the sergeant was joining in, taller than the orc and if that half-smile was any indication twice as mean. She was clearly praesi too, only people more likely to eat your liver than the orcs really. Wait no getting distracted by her impending doom, she needed to focus!

“… and she won’t open her sack.” Oh she didn’t miss anything important. The sergeant was looking at her though. And she still had that half smile! Nothing good could come of this.

“So tavern girl, do you know your numbers and letters?” This was an unexpected turn of events, why did the legionnaire want to know? Should she lie? No, the middle of a guard post was really not the place to be caught lying in. Not trusting her voice she nodded.

The tall woman gave her an absolutely terrifying full smile, with a scar by the side of the mouth to add even more to it. “Say, how would you like a job?”

What was it with people and trying to recruit her lately? She’d already escaped the House of Light and now the legions had a go at it? She new literacy wasn’t universal but it couldn’t be that rare could it? Didn’t matter, this was her way in: follow the sergeant to sign up and then change her mind. It shouldn’t be suspicious, people got cold feet all the time right? Gathering her composure she managed to croak a “Sure”.

“Fantastic. Nar I’ll leave the post in your care, my time is coming up anyway. Now miss…” Oh, she hadn’t actually told her her name had she?   


“Abigail”

“I’m Ebele, nice to meet you. Now follow me please.” And with that they took off into the city, it was working! Now she just needed to get to wherever the legion’s paper pushers were at, although the streets they were walking through were getting worse and worse. It made sense the legion wouldn’t be in the rich part of town but the streets were getting filthy, surely they wouldn’t be here? Then she saw the warehouse and realised she’d make a terrible mistake. The legionnaires at Summerholm were an honest lot, they’d rough you up if you caused trouble but you were otherwise safe with them. She’d assumed it’d be the same everywhere else but there was an entire legion made up of callowan criminals wasn’t there? Had she just walked into the docks quarter of Laure at night with a criminal in armor?    
  
She took a peek at her companion, there was no way she’d be winning a fight. And with those legs she’d never outrun her either. The tall legionnaire realized she was being inspected and shot her what must have passed for a reassuring smile in one of the hells. Oh that was it, she was bolting the moment she got a chance. “Don’t worry we’re here” They were in front of a very shabby tavern, she was going to be ravished wasn’t she? Ravishing was bad, it was very bad. As Ebele opened the door Abby turned around to run like the damned Black Knight was on her heels before she vaguely heard the shout:   
  
“Harrion! I got you a new tavern girl!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this took longer than expected, I got stuck about 2/3rds through the chapter and just couldn't write down what I wanted them to do. Finally managed to do it with some help from the fine people at the PGTE discord. I also decided to join the NaNoWriMo kind of thing they have so hopefully that should get this to be more regular.


End file.
